A New Legacy
by DaddyKlaine
Summary: Tony never particularly wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. So he's going to make sure his son doesn't feel the same need to conform. Chapter 3: VIP
1. Root of All Evil

Or: **Why Tony Stark Is A Serial Womanizer  
**(_Or_ or: **The Beginning of a New Legacy**)

**Spoilers:** _Iron Man _movie (all I know is movie-verse, ppl)

**A/N:** I recently started posting these on my tumblr (daddy-klaine) but thought people on here might enjoy them, too. I started with the idea of writing random little fics involving Blaine as Tony's son, because the more I watched the movies, the more it just made _perfect_ sense. And then there was meta- and over-analyzing with a BFF who knows the comics (this is totally all her fault), and before I knew it, there was a timeline, and a gazillion ideas I want to write...**  
**

* * *

It was called "sowing your wild oats." Tony Stark had been doing it since he was almost 20 years old.

Back then, he had graduated from MIT just a couple of years previously, and he wasn't really looking to settle down. He knew soon, he'd have an entire multi-billion dollar international corporation to run, and he wanted to get in as much fun as he could before he had to head back to working every day.

Before, there had been school, every day for 17 years — which, he was exceptionally good at learning, but he was also exceptionally good at pushing himself, pushing and testing his limits. And when he turned 21, he would take over as CEO of Stark Industries, while Obadiah Stane, his father's partner, stayed on in a more advisory capacity. But for now... for now, Tony just wanted to have _fun._

He dated several women, for brief periods of time, each more beautiful than the last. Before he met Miranda.

Miranda Thompson. She was gorgeous, with wild, curly red hair, green eyes, milk white skin, covered in a riot of gorgeous little freckles. She was a few inches shorter than himself, petite but curvy in just the right places, and she fit against his side as if she'd been made for it. She was witty, with a wicked tongue and a dry sense of humor, compassionate when the situation called for it, sweet... and she adored Tony. The feeling was, of course, mutual.

They went out on lavish dates, to the finest restaurants. Miranda (or Mandie, as her long-time friends called her) wasn't poor; her family had done well for themselves, her father and mother were both bankers, but she by no means had the kind of wealth that Tony had. She sometimes grew embarrassed when he casually used his money to get things done for them; a private box at the opera after she'd casually mentioned how much she enjoyed the music. Reservations to the most exclusive restaurant and lounge in the city. A new car for her birthday, after they'd barely been dating a month. A trip to Japan in the spring on one of his private jets, just to witness the Cherry Blossom Festival.

And, of course, there was the bedroom.

Tony liked sex. He wasn't ashamed of it, and he wasn't going to lie about it. He'd enjoyed it for the three years he'd been having it. But, with Mandie... it was something else entirely. It wasn't just about the physical, when he was with her. They had _fun_, were passionate about each other, and connected in a way he hadn't realized was possible. They were passionately in love, and quickly growing to become something even more. Something Tony had never experienced, and never seen even with his own parents, except on those rare quiet nights when his father was miraculously home by bedtime, and not falling-over drunk. They were growing _comfortable_ with each other, and their relationship, and Tony never wanted it to end. All of his plans for the future, at least in his head, began to include Mandie.

He should have known it was too good to last.

It wasn't until years, many years later, when he allowed himself to reflect on that time in his life, that he realized what had really happened. He'd been played. Played for a fool, by someone who was masterful at the game.

He'd been going over some new designs with Obadiah one night. He'd mentioned Mandie, as he was wont to do if even five minutes went by and he was speaking of anything besides strictly business.

Tony couldn't even recall what he'd said, now. But it had led to Obadiah sitting beside him (not across the table, where Tony could possibly believe he was confronting him), and questioning just how serious the relationship was. And, of course, Tony had answered honestly. It was _very_ serious. They were in love. He couldn't imagine his life without her. And Obadiah, with a well-crafted look of almost-hidden unease, questioned if Mandie felt the same way.

Well, of course she did, Tony had responded. We _love_ each other.

Obadiah had remained silent for a long stretch, glancing down at the plans on the table that were now lying forgotten. 'Are you sure?' he'd asked. When Tony had looked at him, (not thinking of getting angry yet), Obadiah had shrugged and said simply that he just wanted Tony to be careful, he didn't want him to get hurt.

And then Tony _did_ get angry, and asked (as he later realized was exactly what Obadiah had been wanting) what he meant by that. Mandie wasn't going to hurt him!

Obadiah had explained that he was just being cautious, and trying to look out for Tony. 'She doesn't come from a long line of genius millionaires, Tony,' he'd said. 'I just don't want her to want you for any reason besides who you are, that's all.' Then, he'd suggested they get back to working on the design.

That had been the end of the discussion between them. But the seed had been planted. And, with a mind like Tony's, always racing at a hundred miles a minute, it didn't take long for the seed to take root, and begin to grow.

It began with wondering what Obadiah had meant by 'who you are.' He was Tony Stark, heir to Stark Industries. If Obadiah was worried about Mandie being a gold digger, then his fears were baseless. Mandie didn't care about money. She dreamed of having a nice house away from the city, but that could easily be provided by her own parents, or herself, once she finished going to school to become a lawyer. She wasn't with him for the money, and it was inconceivable that she could _fake_ being in love with him, just to get him to marry her, or anything ridiculous like that.

But, that was what Mandie wanted. She wanted marriage, eventually, and kids. Tony knew that, they had discussed it; not seriously, but in a 'dreams for someday' sort of way. And, Tony thought, he wanted that as well. Eventually.

Not yet, of course. They were barely twenty, marriage and children could definitely wait.

Stark Industries, his _legacy_, on the other hand, was looming ever closer. And once he took up that mantle, he might as well settle down then and there, because he wouldn't have the freedom he had now.

But, did he really have that freedom now, anyway? Wasn't Mandie taking up all his time? She wasn't doing it maliciously, of course, but wasn't all of his 'free time' being spent with her, on her, instead of getting in all the _living_ that he'd planned on doing before becoming a bona fide businessman? Hadn't he wanted to try drag racing, and parasailing, and deep sea diving, and a hundred other things, before they started dating? He wasn't doing any of that, now. He could, of course. He still could. But Mandie was worried he'd get hurt, doing most of the things he wanted to try. (She was right, of course; he _could_ get hurt. But, that was kind of the point. It wasn't an _adventure_ if there wasn't that thrill of danger involved.)

So, Tony vowed to get in all his living now, before he had to settle down with a job, and a potential wife.

It didn't go over so well with Mandie. Surprisingly, it wasn't his adventurous activities that bothered her nearly as much as the constant partying. The drinking. The fights that inevitably broke out, either because Tony had absolutely no brain-to-mouth filter, and a wicked tongue, or simply because he wanted the fight, and he'd goad the biggest man he could find into giving it to him.

They started getting into fights. Over petty things, but they might as well have been starting World War III the way they screamed at each other. Mandie would cry, sometimes when Tony could see her, a lot more often when she didn't think he knew, or wouldn't find out.

The more they fought, the more he tried to smother the horrible feelings; more alcohol, more partying, more dangerous adventures. Which, of course, led to more fighting.

Until finally, Mandie had had enough.

She broke it off with him in late June, six months before his 21st birthday. She said she couldn't stand it any more, how immature he was behaving. _Immature!_ Of course he was immature, he was barely out of being a teenager! He was _supposed_ to be immature!

The truth was, they'd grown apart, and he was entirely to blame. She hadn't said it, but he often wondered if she thought it. He certainly thought it, even when he tried not to. Which usually led to getting spectacularly drunk.

After she left, Tony was set adrift. She'd been his anchor, and without her, he was floating with no course, no goal in sight. He continued to party, and he started picking up women. Beautiful, gorgeous women. They practically threw themselves at him, and he was willing to take them to bed. More than willing.

But he never let it get beyond that. He became a consummate playboy, always unattached, always held apart, even while he mingled and smooth-talked his way through every situation.

Just before October, Mandie contacted him. She had something she felt he needed to know, even if he didn't do anything about it.

Mandie was pregnant.

The range of emotions Tony went through after learning about it was staggering. He was terrified. He wasn't ready to be a _father._ He was elated, because he was going to have a _child,_ something that was wholly his, and not inherited from his predecessors. Grief, that they weren't together for this, that they couldn't share in the excitement and the anticipation, not the way they would have if she'd still been there with him.

He went to see her. She was about halfway along, she had told him, so she wasn't so large that it was difficult to get around, but she was quite obviously pregnant. She'd never looked more beautiful to him. Or more reluctant to see him.

She wasn't getting back together with him, she explained, once he showed up. That wasn't why she had told him. And she didn't want money. She said that she'd done a lot of thinking, and no matter how he was acting now, he did have a right to know that, out in the world, he was going to have a child. If he wanted, he could have a role in their life, but it was going to stay minimum, until she felt it was safe to let him get closer.

She didn't trust him anymore, and that hurt on so many levels. After she'd left, she'd still heard the news stories and seen the tabloid headlines, which were, he was slightly ashamed to admit, almost all true. (He both hated and loved tabloids; they were great fun to mess with, but they had the nasty habit of playing dirtier than he did, and messing back.)

Tony told Obadiah what was going on. He had no reason not to; it was a major event in his young life, and Obie was like a father to him, sometimes it felt like more than his own father had been.

Obadiah was skeptical about a lot of it. He questioned her statement that she didn't want any money. Of course she would _say_ that, he reasoned, but what were the odds that they'd been together for a year, and only after the relationship had gotten rocky, just a month before they broke up, that she became pregnant? And, really, he continued, how could Tony even be _sure_ that the baby was even his? Didn't you always hear about this happening in the news? Some woman claiming that some celebrity had fathered her child?

It angered Tony, that Obadiah was trying to take this away from him, and badmouthing Mandie as well. They had their issues with each other, but whatever those were, he still loved her. More importantly, he _knew_ her, knew that she would never stoop to something like that. She didn't need his money, and why would she stoop to using the lure of fatherhood to draw him back into her life, when she'd made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing to do with him now, and that she felt he was too immature even for an adult relationship, let alone a paternal one?

His response, of course, had been a glib 'That's what paternity tests are for.'

In the midst of all this, Tony turned 21, and became the new CEO of Stark Industries. His partying slowed down, but he quickly learned how to work the system, what rules and guidelines he could ignore, and what had to be dealt with. And in between the whirlwind of learning how to effectively run a business for a profit, he continued to speak to Mandie — Miranda. She was just Miranda to him, now.

She was also as big as a house. She refused to let him set her up in a condo close to her school, instead staying in the nicely furnished loft apartment in which her parents had helped her get. He wouldn't let her refuse his furnishing everything for a nursery, however. The best (which usually translated into the most expensive) of everything a baby and toddler could need or want was supplied. Safety-tested crib, a bassinet, state-of-the-art baby monitoring equipment, everything. (This was the prototype for what was to become JARVIS.)

On February 5th 1995, in a secured hospital with only the best doctors and nurses attending, Tony Stark's infant son was born. He was named Blaine Devon Thompson.


	2. Baby Boy

**A/N:** These chapters are probably going to be slow in coming, because I don't write them in any kind of order (in fact, I don't consider them chapters at all, but one-shots all connected to a central 'verse), but at least this one and the next two, I don't imagine I'll be writing anything in between them (I could be wrong, however), so I'll be posting them.

**Timeline: **1995. Tony is 21 years old.

* * *

Blaine is born fully mature. Which is a good thing, because he's still _tiny._ He weighs only 5lb 4oz, and according to the nurses in attendance, only gave out a few feeble, annoyed cries before settling down as he was briskly cleaned off and taken to the nursery.

Tony doesn't know what he's doing. That seems to be how he feels a lot, lately, at least when it comes to Miranda and their child.

Blaine. He has a name. Blaine Devon Thompson. Miranda refused to give him the last name _Stark_, and while part of Tony was upset that he didn't get to pass his name on to his son, another part of him is _glad_. Glad, because that means that Blaine won't be saddled with a name that may always be too large for his small shoulders.

The truth is, Tony doesn't _want_ Blaine to be a Stark. He wants him to be his son, and he would love it if Blaine followed in his footsteps, but only if that's what _Blaine_ wants. He doesn't want to force Blaine into a mold that's almost a hundred years old. He wants Blaine to make a name for himself – God, he wants Blaine to have _everything_ – but he doesn't want it to come at the cost of Blaine's happiness.

Tony realizes that he's projecting his own feelings onto Blaine, when the boy isn't even a day old yet. But at least he's not projecting his expectations, like he always felt his own father was doing.

It still hurts, over two years later, knowing that his father is no longer around. Knowing that he'll never get a chance to show him what he can become, to make him _proud_ of him. Knowing that he'll never meet Blaine, that Blaine will never get to meet his grandfather.

But, Tony thinks, _vows_, as he stares at the small sleeping newborn through the nursery room glass, he _will_ know his father. Tony will be a part of his life. As much a part of it as he can manage, even if he has to hire several lawyers to counter Miranda's undoubtedly stellar claim that he has no claim in Blaine's life. She's going to be a fantastic lawyer. Just like Tony's going to be a fantastic engineer and businessman.

But he's also determined to be a good father. He'd like to be a _great_ father, but he at least recognizes that he doesn't have the first clue on _how_. His own father was absent at best, and never seemed to know how to relate to Tony, unless they were talking mechanics or electronics. Tony doesn't know anything about children. Besides a couple of family friends who'd had children over the years, Tony had never even been around young children, and of course, he hadn't made it a point of being around those babies or children. Why should he? They were boring, and there were so many interesting things he could be doing besides.

But now… there is _nothing_ more important than Blaine. Tony's known, for most of his life, that important, interesting things can definitely come in small packages. Usually they were electronics, but this is no less ground-breaking.

When he holds Blaine for the first time, merely hours after he's been born, he easily fits into both of Tony's palms. He's mostly asleep, but wiggles a little when Tony first picks him up, face scrunching up in a look of consternation (Tony's sure he sees a little of his own father in that look, that small confused sneer of "Tony, what _are_ you doing?") before settling into a small toothless yawn. He's swaddled in a baby blue blanket, with a matching hat to keep his head warm. His skin is still red from delivery (a C-section, because as tiny as Blaine is, Miranda's also tiny), and he's covered in baby-fine hair. And his head, when Tony peeks under the cap, is also covered in a surprising amount of black hair. It looks wet, but when Tony fingers a strand, it's dry, just silky soft. It also curls, just like Miranda's. But it's definitely the same shade as Tony's, and he's embarrassed to find tears starting to build up behind his eyes at the idea that this tiny creature is going to look at all like him. He wonders if Blaine's eyes will be green like Miranda's, or match his own hazel ones.

He wants to find out. He wants to learn everything about Blaine. And then more. Because unlike the robotics and electronics he's always working on, Blaine isn't going to stop changing, stop growing and learning, once Tony puts him down, or switches his sights to another project. Every time Tony turns around, Blaine is going to know something new. He's going to be different, every time. And it both thrills Tony, and terrifies him. What if he misses something? What if, instead of being disappointed in Blaine, _Blaine _ends up being disappointed in _him?_

He can't let that happen. He won't. He simply refuses. Tony is used to getting whatever he wants, be it from hard work, charming the pants (or skirts, and sometimes quite literally) off of the right people, ingenuity, or just throwing money around until he gets it.

He doesn't want to throw money at Blaine to make him happy. It might help, but that's not how he wants Blaine to see him. He just wants Blaine to see him as… Dad.


	3. VIP

**A/N:** This is continued in the next "chapter," _First Meetings_, which will be up in the next few hours. (Also, I love writing in Pepper's POV.)

**Timeline: **April 1998.

* * *

Virginia Potts wasn't a genius. Thankfully, she'd never claimed she was, so it wasn't a big deal.

Currently, however, she was being employed by a genius.

It was still a little vague in her mind how this all came about. Oh, she remembered the day it happened — after all, it's not every day you're touring Stark Industries, get lost while searching for a bathroom, happen upon a young man in an empty business room scribbling on a white board, and casually tell him while you're passing the doorway that he had a decimal point out of place. And the next thing you know, there's a security guard trying to forcibly escort you out of the building (to which you, accurately, threaten that you have pepper spray in your purse if he tries to touch you again, and you know how to use it), and then that same young man comes to your (unneeded) rescue, and you learn that he is actually _the_ Tony Stark, whose building you're in at the moment.

What she's still unclear on is how exactly she went from being evicted from the building, to being hired as the personal assistant to said Mr. Stark. Apparently, her resume was completely unneeded. "I like your spunk," Tony had replied, when she'd spluttered (very unattractively, in her own opinion) at his offer of a job, on the spot. "You're smart, and you don't take crap. You'll need to take some, of course - but something tells me you're a pretty good diplomat."

"And what tells you that?" She'd found herself asking cautiously.

"You warned the guy, first. You could've just pulled the pepper spray without saying anything."

He made a good point.

Apparently, her new position came with a new nickname, as well. For most of her life, she'd been called Ginger. Which was, of course, a nickname for Virginia. It was also a great taunt on the playground because of her light red hair. Now, she was called Pepper. ("Lemme show you around, Pepper—I can call you Pepper, right?" "It's better than Ginger.")

Now, after three months of working for Mr. Stark... Pepper still felt a little overwhelmed, sometimes. She'd never imagined being in this position, and she still found herself, more often than not, waking up and wondering for a moment if she'd dreamed the entire thing. And then she'd see the black leather binder sitting on her bedside table beside her alarm clock, and wanted to pinch herself, because _this was all really happening._

She stood in front of Mr. Stark, ready to start reading off the list of meetings and appointments he had for the day, when Tony held up his hand to forestall her.

"Cancel them."

"I—what?" Pepper stared at him, nonplussed. "I can't—_cancel_ them! They've been scheduled for weeks! Some of them months, I can't just—"

"Actually, you can. Or," Tony revised with a considering head-tilt, "at least reschedule them. I want the next few months fairly clear, though. About half as many meetings, etc. We're going to pick up someone very important today," he called over his shoulder, as he headed toward his chauffered car. "He'll be here for the next three months. Top priority."

"And why didn't you inform me of this _sooner?_" She was, understandably, a little miffed. Although, Pepper was beginning to realize, this seemed to be part of Tony's modus operandi. He liked throwing people for loops, and seeing how they'd react. She appeared to be his favorite target, at the moment.

"It's a last minute decision. I was going to tell you in a few days, I thought he wouldn't be coming down until next month, but the plan changed, so he's coming early."

"Is he a diplomat?" Pepper asked, rushing to keep up with him, while trying to appear as if she weren't rushing at all. She couldn't really imagine Tony wanting to clear his schedule for anyone who wasn't _extremely_ important. Really, even a diplomat didn't seem likely to hold his interest for _three months_. Even if world peace was in the balance. (Actually, considering what Stark Industry's specialized in, _especially_ if world peace was in the balance.) "A scientist, or engineer?"

"He's incredible," Tony replied, settling into the plush backseat of the Lincoln town car. "You'll love him," he added with a wide, charming grin. That grin was going to give her nightmares. Or ulcers. Probably both. It was the grin that oozed charisma, that charmed the pants off of practically anyone he aimed it toward, and right now, it was pointing straight at her. "Say, by the way — are you any good with kids?"

"I—_what?_"


End file.
